The Herriots
by squirtle1228
Summary: Leezel has eagerly awaited her first year at Ilvermorny her entire life. Her mother, and best friend, is one of the best professors there. But when the time comes, everything goes wrong, her relationship with her first love is faltering, and a horrifying scandal unfolds that makes her question if she truly knows her mother at all. "The Herriots" showcases how trying love is.
1. Author's Note

_**A/N**_

 _Please note: In my story, Ilvermorny differs from Hogwarts. Instead of a seven year school, Ilvermorny is a four years, the normal high school years. This means freshman year, sophomore year, junior year, and senior year. This also means that the characters are not 11 during their first year, first years are 14/15, second years are 15/16, third years are 16/17, fourth years are 17/18._


	2. Don't Snort the Purple Powder

"You've got to be kidding me."

"What?"

"You know what."

I was watching a bootleg of Wicked, with the original broadway cast. Exceedingly rare, so I colored it worthy to suffer through my mother turning her nose up at such a depiction.

"Wizard of Oz, Leezel?" My mother, who was frequently mistaken for my sister due to her youth, or her apparent youth. "That's one of the worst portrayals of witches of all time!"

I looked at her from head to toe, from the top of her ebony hair to the bottom of her pastel green shoes, "I wouldn't say it's too far off."

"Watch it, cheeky," Mom was also known as Professor Griselde Herriot, teacher of Charms at Ilvermorny.

"Besides, it's not Wizard of Oz, it's Wicked."

Mom, who would rather step on a nail than sit through a musical like Wicked, groaned. "Musical theatre... where did I go wrong?" Mom was more of a heavy rock fan. She had a Slipknot tramp stamp that she frequently denied the existence of.

My mom and I picked on each other, but it none of it scratched the surface of serious.

I felt a sudden burning tickle on either side of my nose, I leaned into my elbow and sneezed violently. Mom shrieked.

I looked up from my freshly moistened arm. Mom's cosmetic mirror had disappeared, leaving only a small paint shade difference on the wall facing her.

"When the hell is your Ilvermorny letter gonna come in?" Mom whispered, stunning by the sudden vanishing of the only thing she loved more than her own daughter.

"Maybe I didn't get in?" I said, unable to hide my disappointment.

"We'll discuss how impossible that is once I find my second daughter."

Mom clacked up the stairs to her room, then clacked right back down the wooden stairs, holding her wand. Mom's wand always fascinated me. Well, all wands fascinate me. Ever since I was told that wands chose you, not the other way around, my mind went on a fritz, always categorizing people by their wand types. My mom's wand was maple wood with a unicorn hair core. I always thought it represented her perfectly. Maple wood, sweet like maple syrup, and sturdy, strong, and beautiful, like a maple tree itself. Unicorn hair, because she was practically unbelievable in many ways, both good and bad.

Mom lifted her wand, "Accio!"

The mirror fell face first from the ceiling, smashing into smithereens. My mom and I screamed, nearly jumping out of our skins at the crash.

The mail flap opened and a letter plopped onto our floor.

"That is an omen!" I yelped, hugging my knees to my chest. "If that is my Ilvermorny letter, it is an omen!"

"Leezel, chill!" Mom said, laughing with surprise at my superstitious outburst. I took a deep breath, burying my face in my hands in an attempt to calm myself.

Mom looked at the dry envelope, and her face paled, her jaw going slack. "Holy shit!"

"Mother!" I shouted, "Profanity!"

"Leezel, it's here!" Mom squealed in sudden, intense joy. She kicked off her hells and jumped up and down, giggling wildly, as if she were a teenager again. I joined her in her jumping, screaming with joy.

"Oh, my god! Oh, my god, oh, my god, oh, my god!" I screeched, unable to stop myself from my overwhelming, crippling excitement. I snatched the letter away from Mom viciously and read the address,

Ms. L. Herriot

The Broadway Musical Poster-Covered Room

888 Greyskin Boulevard

I opened the envelope carefully so it would look nice when I framed it later.

ILVERMORNY

School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Headmistress: Torylle Fujimoto

Dear Ms. Herriot,

We are immensely pleased to inform you that you have officially been accepted into Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You will find an enclosed list of all books and miscellaneous equipment that will be needed for your first year.

This semester begins on August 24th.

Signed,

Ezra Kidging, Deputy Headmaster

My mind immediately started buzzing with every question it could muster. Would Headmistress Fujimoto be nice? Would Deputy Headmaster Kidging be nice? Would I even know them, or would they just be distant and intimidating? Oh, no, what if they recognize me from when I visited Mom's classroom as a little child? What if they have baby pictures?! Will people judge me because my mother is a professor? What kind of wand will I get?

My eyes widened as I realized the biggest question of all, what will my house be in?

My mother was in Thunderbird, the house of adventurous people who represented the soul of Ilvermorny. Mom was the prime example of everything good and bad about the Thunderbird house. Constantly curious and definitely on the brave side of the spectrum, but can be careless and incredibly stubborn. The latter of which is hereditary, apparently. I feel like I would be a shoe-in for Thunderbird. My mom and I are cut from the same crop, practically the same, (which is why our occasional arguments can get very nasty). To me, it was always a no-brainer that Thunderbird was where I belong. When I got to snuck into the common rooms of Thunderbird, I found it impossibly charismatic and endearing. Thunderbird students always wanted to find something new, something undiscovered in the nooks and crannies of the dormitories. The stuff they found sprinkled in the forgotten spots of their beds was mind blowing. Most of the scavenger hunt-items were left by past Thunderbird-ians, to light the spark of wonder and escapade in the students, becoming witches and wizards. Occasionally, the students gave me some lost and found knick knacks. By now, I had drawers and drawers full of broken snow globes, rubber balls with small spells written on them. One of the rubber balls was big enough to have wingardium leviosa scratched on it. It was constantly hovering, no matter what I pressed on it to attempt to make it droop. It was the only house I saw myself joining, the only house that would make me the witch I want to be.

My father, Hugh Herriot, who hit the bricks a couple years ago, was in Pukwudgie, which doesn't sound too bad, except for the fact that my father was a proud member. Pukwudgie represented the heart of Ilvermorny, favoring healers. I was iffy on Pukwudgie. Not just because my father was in it, but something that I can't really explain. For me, it just seems like a dry house. Nothing particularly interesting about it.

My boyfriend, Beau Nagamine, AKA the hottest boy alive, was a shoe-in for Wampus, the body of Ilvermorny, house of warriors. He was accepted into the school recently as well. Beau was a typical sports lover, but nonetheless immensely sweet.

My best friend, Travis Greenleaf, AKA the smartest boy alive, practically had a spot reserved for him in Horned Serpent, brain of Ilvermorney, house of scholars. Travis' resemblance wasn't similar to a typical nerd at the time, but a few years before, pre-contact lenses, he looked like the scientist from The Simpsons. But a pair of contacts and a life-changing haircut later, and he looked not-too-shabby.

Travis and Beau never got along. Beau was incredibly protective, but not in a "I'm suffocating, give me space," type of way. Just a silent, brooding territorial type. And despite Travis being in a very committed relationship with another boy, Beau would hear nothing of it.

"I don't care how long he's had a boyfriend, Leezel. He says he's bi, that just means straight, but going through a phase."

I tried to explain to him how incredibly disrespectful that was, but he would hear nothing of it.

"So?" Mom prodded, yanking me from my thoughts.

I forced a smile, my excitement watered down the sudden house-born anxiety that flared up. "I got accepted!"

Mom screamed with joy, and my smile grew despite my sudden mood change. When my mom was happy, I was happy, and vice versa.

I tried to smother the tornado of emotions that was swarming in my chest, trying to hand select the bumbling excitable happiness, but losing myself in the swallowing fear of my upcoming semester at Ilvermorny School for Witchcraft and Wizardry

"Okie dokie," Mom clapped her hands together. "Let's get this party started."

I was standing in our unlit fireplace, pappy sand-like ash covering my toes, until I was sunk nearly to my ankles. I held my shoes in my hand, because they were neon red Tom's, and I would most likely suffer from an aneurism if they were cast into a dull grey shade.

"I don't feel party-ish!" I announced, "I'm standing in a fireplace!"

Mom dismissed me with a wave, "Hold out your hand."

I did so.

She dumped a small mountain of glittering, muted purple in my hand. I bent down to smell it. Mom thwacked me in the temple with her hand.

"Do not snort the powder, Mia Wallace!" She cried.

"Why not?"

"My dear Leezel, when you snort something of this consistency, it will go up your nasal cavity, and we will have to take you to a wizard doctor," Mom said, sarcastically pronouncing each syllable as if I had the literacy of a toddler.

"What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Listen to me carefully," Mom demanded, all the joking in her eyes, so dark blue they were nearly black, was sapped. "This powder will transport you to Sumpficus Passageway, that's the little narrow street with all the shops, remember? That's where we're going to buy your wand and all the other junk you need."

"I know, Mom, we've been to Sumpficus Passageway a thousand times. Why are you being so weird?"

Mom bit her cosmetic-painted lips, her dark eyes suddenly pooling with tears. My mom wasn't really emotional, so this was a shocking occasion.

"Mom, what's wrong?" I put my purple powder-less hand on her shoulder, pulling her into an extremely awkward hug.

"Because you're going to Ilvermorny!" She sniffled, "You're all grown up! Flying out of the nest!"

"Mom, I'll be going to Ilvermorny for four years, I'm still firmly nestled in the nest."

"I know, but these four years are gonna fly by. Soon enough, you're going to be out in the world, doing... doing whatever you're going to do with your life!"

Tucking the thought away for when I needed something to panic about, I patted her back, "Mom, it's going to be okay. I'll always be your Li'l Leezie!"

"You better be my Li'l Leezie!" Mom sobbed, "Big Leezie isn't nearly as catchy."

I snickered, and let her weep for a bit.

"Okay, Mom, like you said, it's time to get the party started."

Mom stepped back, wiping her face on her sweater sleeve. "Oh! I nearly forgot, I need my camera!"

"Your camera?!"

"Yes! My baby is going to Sumpficus Passageway to get supplies for her freshman year at Ilvermorny! I'd lose custody if I didn't capture this memory!"

Mom disappeared, and came back a bright yellow Polaroid camera. "Now, I'm going to take a picture of you as you're going to Sumpficus, so I'm going to talk you through it first."

"Okay."

"Now, listen excruciatingly close. You're going to yell 'Sumpficus Passageway' at the top of your lungs, then through the powder down as hard as you can."

"That sounds easy enough," I shrugged and lifted my hand to fling the powder.

"WAIT!" Mom screeched like a bird of prey crying out to warn it's flock of a threat.

"What?" I asked, partially terrified that my mother's voice could reach that volume and pitch.

"You need to pronounce it carefully," Mom pressed. "Follow my lead,"

"SUMP-" She popped her lips precisely at the end of the syllable.

"FUH"

"KUSS"

"PAH"

"SUHJ"

"WÉ"

"That was so gross," I said, laughing so hard I couldn't breathe.

"I'm serious, Leezel!" Mom snapped, "You could get lost in the God-Knows-Where desert!"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry!"

I took a deep breath, trying to soothe my rattled nerves.

"Sumpficus Passageway!" I cried, and catapulted the powder with every strength I had in my noodle-like arm. I was swallowed in a blindingly vivid green smoke. It filled my nostrils and my mouth, choking me. My view of my mother was obliterated by the emerald fog, which was currently strangling me. Something must've went wrong, it was impossible that this was the way it was meant to happen. Spots clouded my vision of my jade surroundings, and I felt myself spinning, slowly at first, but after a bit I was like a top that was under a spell, I was going at such a speed I couldn't decipher if it was clockwise or counterclockwise. I wheezed, fighting for oxygen. Agonizing pain screamed through my lungs, eyes burning with tortured tears. My arms shot out from my sides, and I searched for a handhold to stop myself, knowing that I would throw up the second I stopped, but not caring at this point. I felt my feet leave the soft down of the ash. The spots that were clouding my vision thickened until I was seeing through a tunnel vision. Every thought in my head faded, every stress vaporizing, just the dry confusion, fear, and dizziness of what was happening to my body. I found enough oxygen to scream.

"Mom, help me!"


End file.
